


I Don't Know You Anymore

by MariskaDownUnder



Series: What He Left Behind [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alpha Olivia Benson, F/F, F/M, Gen, Inspired by Law & Order: SVU, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariskaDownUnder/pseuds/MariskaDownUnder
Summary: Olivia is living life just fine until long-time friend and co-worker, Melinda pulls her aside to inform her that the man who broke her heart is back.Olivia finds herself opening up to a new romance with the unlikely Trevor Langan whom she has known for far longer than Elliot has known her now. Perturbed by his return, Olivia must figure out what it is that she really wants.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson/Melinda Warner, Olivia Benson/Trevor Langan
Series: What He Left Behind [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024449
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Melinda looked at her watch. She was twelve minutes late. It didn’t matter too much, she thought as she looked around the quiet, top end bar. It probably looked like she was being stood up to the servers, she thought. She was nervous, jittery even. Her leg jigged beneath the small, just-above-knee height circular table she sat close to in the crushed velvet smoker’s chair. 

It wasn’t unlike Olivia to be late for a social function. She was a wallflower, someone who liked to just be in her own space when she was away from work. She didn’t cut loose often and always had her mind on her job. It was deflection, Melinda knew, from the torment of her past and of love that she hopelessly wanted but never admitted to.

Melinda was good at reading people, but Olivia only ever gave an inch. 

This was going to be different though, she had some news and she wanted to give her colleague-turned-friend fair warning before she was blind-sided. 

“Ma’am would you like to order another drink?” a server interrupted her thoughts, taking her empty vodka and lime. 

“Sure, another vodka and lime please,” she smiled. “Wait, do you guys have Makers Mark or …. Bowmore?” she asked him. 

He smiled back, “Definitely Makers Mark, not sure about Bowmore – I could find out if you like?” the young, handsome, but wayyyyy too clean-cut for her liking, guy replied. 

“Maker’s Mark is fine, I’ll have that as well as the vodka and lime, just on the rocks thanks.” 

“Big night?” he flashed her a cheeky little grin. 

“For my friend,” she corrected him, not wanting someone to think she was drinking alone on a weeknight. 

As he walked away Melinda looked around, she’d hoped to be feeling a little more buzzed by the time Olivia arrived, she wanted the news to come out smoothly, less like she was trying to tell her parents had been pushed off a cliff, but to smile anyway. 

She spotted her, she looked cute, maybe a little tiny bit underdressed for this bar, but she always pulled it off. She stood, scanning the room for Olivia wearing a grey, harem-style jumpsuit under a black leather jacket. 

Only Olivia could get away with something like that, she thought with a little smile to herself. She lifted her hand to wave at her. Olivia’s eyes settled upon the ME and registered her with a smile. She waved back, pulling her hands out of her pockets and made her way over. 

Melinda stood to give her a hug. Olivia obliged before sitting down. “This is cosy!” she exclaimed, looking around. “Should have sent me the dresscode brief, though,” she laughed, “I feel so under-dressed.” 

“You look great though,” Melinda remarked, “I love your outfit. You look adorable, but then the jacket… it says, I’m adorable, but also don’t fuck with me.” 

They both laughed. “I ordered you a whiskey,” Melinda informed her.

“Oh, doctor, are you trying to get me drunk and have your way with me?” she joked. 

Melinda chuckled. “If only,” she teased. 

“Wouldn’t want to turn your thing with Fin in to a triangle, wouldn’t be fair to me, I’d get no attention from Fin.” Olivia continued, winking at her workmate. 

“Fin and I?” she asked. “I dunno what you’re talking about, girl.” 

“Oh, c’mon… you and Fin have been dancing this awkward jig for almost ten years.” 

The server appeared and put down the glasses on the table. Olivia looked up and thanked him and thanked Melinda. “So besides having a boner for Fin that you’ve been trying to cover up for years, what else is going on?” she asked, taking a slow slip of her whisky, letting it roll around on her tongue for a moment, savouring its smokiness. 

Melinda waved her off and laughed. “If I sit around waiting for Fin to make a move, my bones will end up fossilized somewhere in the Lower East Side,” she laughed. “But besides that, nothing, I just thought it’d been awhile since we caught up outside of work.” 

“Right,” Olivia replied a little suspiciously but didn’t want to make it too obvious in case Melinda genuinely was putting work in to a friendship that was at times weak or at least up and down, depending on how busy they both were. 

“You know, I don’t have too many friends outside of work, I know it’s the same for you – you see too much, you end up distrusting everyone…. I just thought, you’re someone I trust, I hope that you feel the same about that with me, so we should… hang out more, you know, that’s what friends do.” 

A small smile spread across Liv’s mouth. She didn’t have any girlfriends either; it was hard. In her world, women didn’t want to hear about rapes and murders and being a trailblazer career-woman. The friends she did have in college were now mothers and enjoyed time with their family’s and children and spent their time with nice, shiny things – not constant exposure to morbidity and darkness. 

“That’s nice, Mel,” she replied, “I do feel the same, you’re probably right – we’re not getting any younger, we understand each other.” 

“If I have to find another excuse not to go to a superfluous friend’s child’s birthday party it will be too soon,” Melinda rolled her eyes. 

“Work is always my go-to, but honestly, besides Fin’s grandson’s birthday, I don’t get the invites anymore, my friendships are only with other police officers or people like you who work in a similar field,” she admitted, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Jeez,” Melinda remarked, leaning back in to the red lounge-y type chair, “work really has messed us up, right? Even if on the surface we feel fine about what we do.” 

Olivia chuckled lightly. “I’m long done being sad about it,” she shrugged. “it is what it is…” 

Melinda just smiled and watched her friend drink up. She was starting to feel the hit of her first drink. She wondered just how she was going to bring him up, how Olivia would take the news. 

Olivia couldn’t help but notice the awkwardness and the tension in the air. She knew there was something Melinda wanted or was worried about telling her at work. As the small talk dissipated, she realized that besides cases, there wasn’t a lot to talk about. Neither women were open or happy to discuss emotions or private thoughts the same as other women their own ages were.

“Liv…” she began, her voice trailing. 

Here it is, Liv thought, something – a favor, a question, help with an examination. She didn’t mind, she just wished it didn’t come under the pretense of getting together for a social drink. 

“I have something to tell you – you might already know this so… if it’s out of line I apologize, but-“

“Wait,” Olivia held up her hand, she shook her head a little confused. “is this something I need to be very drunk for?”

The tension seemed to fall from her friend’s face. “Maybe…” 

Olivia took two long slugs of her whiskey and made a face. She set down the glass with just a tiny bit left. “Okay, go…” 

Melinda laughed at her. “Alright…Olivia, I found out something about Elliot yesterday.” Olivia’s face seemed to shift in to seriousness. 

“What about him?” she asked, trying to seem aloof. She hadn’t spoken with anyone about Elliot since he left without word. She was sure that she would never heal from the heartbreak he left her with. As with every other pile-on of shit that had occurred in her personal life, she buried it deep down, hoping never to have to face it again.

“He’s uhm…” she started, she took a deep breath, “he’s coming back to Manhattan in High Crimes…” 

“What?” she asked, doing a double take. “Are you serious?” she couldn’t hide her shock or surprise. “When? Who told you that?” 

“It just been floating around, I also confirmed it with someone from your precinct so, I thought I should tell you first so you’re not surprised if he turns up.” 

Olivia face went slack, as if the news had smarted her. Melinda watched as the color drained from her face. She went quiet, not sure what to say. She looked down at her glass. She took another mouthful, enjoying the burn, adding warmth to her face that was already heating up with her upset. 

“Are you okay?” Melinda asked gently, reaching over, placing her hand on Olivia’s forearm. 

Liv looked up; as if she was surprised her coworker was still sitting there; registering her and realizing she was awaiting a response. Olivia cleared her throat, hoping that along with it, the film of water that covered her eyes would disappear. “Y..yeah…” she stammered. 

“Elliot did a really bad thing when he left, Liv, I know we never talked about it, but we didn’t have to, I know how much it hurt you.” 

Olivia rolled her shoulders self-consciously. She shook her head, “If Elliot is coming back that’s good for him. He doesn’t owe me anything.” 

“That’s the thing, Liv,” Melinda countered, “I think he does owe you something. He owes you one hell of an apology. You were so close for eleven years!” she insisted. 

Olivia sat back in her chair and shrugged as if she were at a loss for words. She lifted her glass and gave a half-hearted mock-cheers. “And look how that ended.”

Melinda felt bad for her friend but she was unsure of how to support her. Olivia was never very open with her emotions – she saved that part of herself for Elliot, Melinda knew for a fact that he was one of the only people that she had ever been truly vulnerable with; it came with the territory – you had to trust the person who you were working with, after all they were responsible for your life. 

“Olivia, you didn’t deserve how he treated you.” 

“I can’t do this Melinda,” Olivia sighed, “I can’t let myself go back there…” she rubbed her face. She finished the rest of her drink just as the server passed again. “Can I have another one of these?” she asked. 

The waitress smiled and nodded, “sure, I won’t be long.” 

There was some silence that hung between them for a moment as Olivia processed. Melinda wasn’t trying to push her for a response. Liv could be a woman of few words when she was bothered or upset. She knew if pushed the issue, Liv would make a hasty exit rather than airing how she felt. 

Liv drew in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose and a pained expression settled over her face. She breathed out slowly and deliberately. 

“Mother fucker….” She finally blurted out, resolutely. She glanced at Melinda and shook her head slowly, “it’s typical, isn’t it?” she asked with a laugh that mocked her disbelief, “after 11 years of that kind of closeness where I’d have put my life on the line for him, he just leaves without a trace…. And want’s to just wander back in… what the fuck? Was he actually just a closet sociopath that whole time and I didn’t know it?” 

Melinda was able to find a tiny spark of amusement from Olivia’s annoyance, but she didn’t let it show. She wanted Olivia to be angry. She deserved to be angry. She didn’t want Elliot to think he could just waltz back in to everyones lives and slot himself back in like he didn’t offend every single person he had worked with for all those years. 

It felt fake; like his friendship and brothership had all been just for show. It left everyone reeling and devastated when he left, but no one more heartbroken than Liv. 

“I don’t think he was a sociopath but I’m certainly not going to make excuses for him,” replied Melinda. “You know how I feel about it all; I said it to you when he left. I can understand if he needed some time after what happened, I know he took it hard, but he could have picked up the phone…”

The server appeared with their drinks and Liv immediately picked up hers and took a mouthful. She swallowed with a wince, ignoring the burn. 

She felt her eyes betraying her in the form of two fat tears, mapping their way down her face. She quickly wiped them away with the backs of her hand and took another sip of her drink. “Fuck him,” she murmured. 

“Fuck him,” Melinda repeated. She knew though, that the second Olivia saw him she would fold. She would try to be strong, but Elliot was the only man who was ever able to turn her to mush; to bring out that vulnerability. She loved him so unconditionally, Melinda had seen it. 

Liv wiped her eyes again and sniffed. “That prick isn’t worth my tears,” she said with a sardonic laugh. 

“He’s not, Liv, but when you do see him, you’re allowed to have feelings and be mad and let him know you’re mad.” 

“Thanks…” she murmured. 

“You’re welcome and you can talk to me about it anytime, you know… the offer is always there.” 

Liv tried to smile and thanked her again. 

So, she thought, Elliot was back and she had no fucking idea how she felt about it. She finished her drink and reached in to her pocket and pulled out a small folded leather purse. She put a couple of twenties down. Melinda went to stop her but Olivia insisted. 

“I need to go take a walk… thanks for the heads up, I appreciate it.”

She watched Olivia walk out of the bar, looking casual as could be in her grey jumpsuit, wearing it with abandon, not giving a shit that she was dressed down for the place they were at. 

She swallowed the rest of her own drink and asked for the cheque.


	2. The Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia gets stooged by NYPD's crappy budget and finds herself on a sleeper train to Chicago for a work conference.

They thought that they were protecting her and she didn't want to pretend that she knew anything different. She didn't have the energy for it. She didn't want the piteous eyes, the pats on the shoulders, the unspoken there-theres from the people that were supposed to look to her for strength and leadership.

She gathered up some files from her office and ignored the lull of the hushed voices just outside that seemed to silence as soon as she entered the room. She knew they were all talking about him.

She was humiliated that her private feelings were so obvious when she had believed that they'd been so well-hidden for so many years. She wondered if Fin had run his mouth or if they had all naturally just read between the lines – god knows there'd been so many rumours when Elliot left.

Fin was the only one that knew the extent of her feelings for Elliot; he was the one who picked her up from the ground when she'd collapsed from grief in the locker room when she received the news that he wasn't returning.

Fin had been there but she still didn't discuss it with him in any great detail after that day for the shame that she felt about him knowing her unrequited feelings.

With papers in arm, she grabbed her satchel of things and threw it over one shoulder. She closed her office door behind her. She scanned the room, "Okay," she announced, "I'm off… try not to get yourselves in to trouble and I'm on my phone if you need me."

"Have a safe trip, Cap," Carisi called out.

She couldn't bare to look back, she didn't want to see the piteous looks on their faces – the knowing that they were withholding bad news from her.

She got home to begin packing for the early start.

As she packed she let her mind wander to Elliot and try as she might, but she was unable to stop the memories coming in hard and fast of all of the 12 years that they had spent together, side-by-side closer than he was to his own wife as he had so kindly pointed out to her.

She sighed.

Almost making her jump a foot off her bed was Noah standing in the doorway watching his mother.

"Hi honey, what are you doing awake?" she asked him, instantly forgetting all about Elliott and the long train ride she had to take the next day. She would have happily paid for a flight out of her own pocket if the NYPD hadn't already booked her a sleeper cabin.

"Mommy, Lucy said you were leaving tomorrow but you didn't even see me before bed."

"I know honey, but I'm not leaving super early like normal, I'll be able to have breakfast with you and take you to school…" she promised her little curly haired boy. She briefly wondered what Elliot would think of her maternal nature and her capacity to love someone more than she ever could have dreamed of loving him.

She held her arms out for her 6 year old son who was in many ways, still just a baby. He sleepily climbed in to her lap just like he still did when he was tired. She inhaled the sweet scent of the baby shampoo they still used on his sensitive scalp.

He was growing up too fast.

She placed a kiss on his smooth forehead and held him close to her. He yawned quietly. "Close your eyes," she said soothingly. "You will have a few fun days with Lucy and her Momma and then I'll be back home before you know it."

"Okay," he agreed.

She held him in silence for a little while stroking his beautiful curls that she really had to let go of, she couldn't keep his hair long forever, but she didn't have it in her heart to let him grow up too fast.

She wondered what Elliot would think of her parenting; if he would be surprised by how stern she could be and how well her son responded to her no-nonsense approach to things.

She had learned things from watching Elliot be a father; mostly what not to do. She showed her son emotion, she didn't keep things from him and was always gave 100% of herself; not some watered-down version of who she thought he would want in a mother. She believed in being transparent with her son, of showing him the highs and lows by finding just that right balance between what she needed to protect him from and what she would always be open about.

When Olivia was convinced that her son was asleep, she lifted him and slowly rose to her feet. He was getting heavy – yet another indication that he was no longer the soft, warm baby that she'd held in her arms almost in disbelief.

Once Noah was back in bed, she finished packing.

She needed to get out of her head, she thought as she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine to slow it all down.

Fuck Elliot, she said to herself, remembering how Melinda had repeated it back to her earlier, just like a mantra she had consoled herself with way back when…

He wasn't going to get to do this to her again; and for what? To set her heart on fire over and over and to constantly get the burning, smoldering flames snuffed out each time his wife walked in to the precinct?

Elliot Stabler was not about to get the best of her again. She knew better – she was older, wiser and this time she had the greatest capacity to love deeper than her feelings ever extended to him. She had priorities – she had a family – albeit small, but it was hers and she was happy and he wasn't going to come waltzing back in to shake shit up again.


	3. The Train

Olivia was annoyed. NYPD's pockets were so shallow that her ticket only allowed for a wide seat carriage with a curtain partition. For the cost of what she had to pay for a private room with meals included in the cost, she may as well have paid for the damn flight directly to Chicago.

She was sweaty, flustered and so happy to throw her overnight bag on the bed of the small cabin. She wasn't thrilled about the size of the shower or the toilet cubicle, but it was only overnight, she thought. She put her satchel down beside the bed and pulled off her fitted black blazer and threw it on the bed.

She fanned herself off in front of the mirror inside of the small clothes cupboard in the left corner at the foot of the bed. She opened the curtains and a small window to get some fresh air circulating.

After a few moments of catching her breath and staring blithely at the platform where people were still boarding, Olivia felt a little better.

She had to admit, after she got over the rush to get to Grand Central and almost being late then realizing her accommodation sucked, Liv was quite looking forward to the quiet time. She had a couple of work things to do, but she had gotten most of it finished after taking Noah to school.

And that had come with its own set of dramas.

Mrs Newcom, Noah's first grade teacher had asked to see her. Bracing herself for the worst and watching the horror form on her son's little face, Olivia expected that she was going get some news about her sweet boy that she wasn't going to find palatable to say the least.

Mrs. Newcom, an older teacher who had many years experience at the private school she sent her son to, ushered her in to the back of the room. "Sorry to bother you Mrs. Benson, I know you are a busy woman, but I just wanted to mention a thing or two to you in private."

"No, nothing is more important than my son," Olivia said quickly. She didn't want to be known as one of those mothers who's primary carer was the nanny – she and Lucy had a great partnership when it came to looking after Noah, and she always, always wanted to be involved.

"I'm not sure if you're aware but Noah has a little flare for art, if you will," spoke the teacher softly. Olivia had noticed her son's love of drawing and painting and she thought he was quite good too, but she couldn't see passed her own bias, she knew. "Two children from each class will be chosen to have an art project showcased at the middle school for a special art show and I was hoping that I could put Noah forward for the spot." Olivia studied the lines on the woman's face; her greying hair was pulled back in to a firm bun. She was a little surprised.

Was Noah really that good?

"Of course," she said, finally smiling, "I am sure he would love that!" Olivia replied.

"Excellent, as I said, I know you are a busy woman and I didn't wish to put any further strain on your work home/life balance as it were-"

"As I said," Olivia replied, trying to still sound warm despite her testy reminder, "Noah is my priority and I'm sure that between myself and his nanny, Lucy, we can be available to help by readying him for a big, exciting task. Would you mind sending the details to my email or giving Lucy a copy?" Liv asked.

"Of course, thank you for your time Mrs. Benson."

She felt the weight lift from her shoulders and was so happy that the teacher wasn't reporting bad behavior or slipping schoolwork. As she looked over to her son, she felt herself relax, he wasn't a bad kid – he was sensitive and kind and generous. He was busy wheeling a small boy to the desk where he was playing. The child in the wheelchair suffered Cerebral Palsy and although he could walk with an aid, it seemed easier for him to sit in a chair to prevent accidents or putting too much pressure on him.

She was proud of Noah as she watched him talk to the boy – not in a piteous or patronizing way, but in a way that made sure he was included in the pre-class game they were playing.

"Thank you, Mrs. Newcom. I better run, I'll say goodbye to Noah and I will let him tell me the news himself."

The teacher gave Olivia a wave as she made her way over to Noah and his two other friends.

"Hey guys!" she greeted them happily.

They all greeted her politely, referring to her as Mrs. Benson, except of course Noah. "Mom!" he grinned at her, slipping off his chair to greet her again. It was a novelty to have her in his classroom casually in the morning. He turned to the kids and despite the fact that everyone was aware of who his mother was, he wanted their attention, "guys, my Mom is a police!" he told them boastfully but with a beam of pride sweeping across his face, "she helps catch the baddies! Isn't that right, Mom?"

Olivia nodded, "Yes, that's true, I'm a police officer," she told the boys.

"Really?" the boy in the wheelchair asked, surprised, "how come you don't have a uniform or a gun?"

"Because I'm not going to work until later," she replied, "but if someone tells you they are a police officer and they don't have a uniform on, you should always ask to see their badge," she informed them, taking her pocket book from the inside of her blazer. She showed the boys her badge and let them look closely at it.

"That's so cool!" the other blonde boy exclaimed. Olivia smiled before handing it back.

"Thank you," she said, popping it away again.

"Mommy, can I show you my pictures on the wall?" he asked tugging at her arm with cautious excitement.

"Of course kiddo," she said, not having the heart to say no to him. He was clearly so proud to have her there. One picture turned in to about half a dozen and then Noah wanted to show her the cubby where all his other workbooks were.

"Honey, I gotta go, also your class is about to start, all your friends have arrived and Mrs. Newcom is waiting for me to leave…" she told him, getting down on her haunches to reach his level. "I promise when I get home I'll take an afternoon or a morning off and I'll come and hang out in your classroom with you before class and you can show me everything, alright?"

He nodded regretfully. "I don't want you to go Mommy," he pouted.

She gave him a hug and a little squeeze. "I know, but Mommy's gotta go to work. I'll call you tonight and I'll call you tomorrow and then I'll be back in time for Friday night pizza and movie," she promised, And wine, she thought.

"Okay," he sighed. She drew him away from her for a moment and gave him a smile.

"I love you Noah, you be a good boy for Lucy and her Momma, okay?"

He nodded. "Can you read me a story tonight?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course. I'll speak to Lucy and we can do a video chat."

"Okay," he agreed.

"I'll bring you back a surprise from Chicago," she smiled, "love you my baby!"

"I love you too Mommy," she kissed him and stood up, wincing as her knees creaked.

She gave him a wave and waved to his teacher as she made her way out of the classroom, not daring to look back or else she knew she would be filled with emotion at the sight of his puppy dog eyes.

Back home, she thought, paperwork, and then Grand Central. She made a mental note to take one of Noah's books with her so she could read to him.

She heard the final whistle on the platform and things got moving. She took off her boots and sat on the bed. It was more comfortable than it looked. She sat for a moment and closed her eyes. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, she felt overwhelmed with sleepiness.

She thought about getting her ipad out to prepare for the conference, but she drifted off before she had the chance.

Olivia looked over the menu in the carriage restaurant, sliding in to a booth on her own. She hoped that no one would try to sit next to her. She wasn't in the mood for small talk and she wasn't particularly good at it either.

She would have taken her food in to her room, but apparently there were things on the menu that didn't wasn't available on the room service menu. A juicy steak sounded good, but she couldn't imagine a train service cart getting it done right. She chose the beef brisket with the roast potatoes and vegetables. It would probably be the healthiest thing she'd eaten in a week.

A glass of red too, maybe afterwards she'd take a quiet whisky in to her sleeper and get as much sleep as possible, she thought.

Once her order had been taken, Olivia took her phone out and checked her messages. Nothing from Lucy, nothing from the other guys back at the office; she was able to feel relieved.

She thanked the server as she arrived back to the booth with a napkin and her glass of red. The first sip was good but the second sip was always the best, she thought.

She was glad to be out of the stupid constricting blazer and in to a more comfortable white t-shirt on a weeknight. If it had been acceptable, she would have worn sweats too.

The wine wasn't expensive, it wasn't amazing but it tasted okay. She felt all the tension fall away as she took her black-framed glasses off and rested back, closing her eyes and enjoying her solitude for just a second.

It had literally been a second when she opened her eyes to a dark grey suit, sliding in to the booth. Her instant reaction was to roll her eyes, but she held back.

"Do you mind?" he asked, without looking at her or even waiting for a response, "the other seats are taken…"

"I clearly don't get a choice," Olivia mumbled, looking out the window. She knew he didn't hear, but she dragged her eyes away and glanced at the gentleman before her holding a whisky tumbler.

Just my fucking luck…

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone even, as if she didn't care.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied with a charming smile, turning his lips up, his blue eyes intensely staring in to hers as they always did.

It was hard not to feel disarmed around this man, even in the court room, she took a mouthful of her wine. She waited for him to answer her, she wasn't going to ask her question twice and she wasn't sure if she wanted to endure dinner with the enemy.

"Conference in Chicago – you too?"

Olivia nodded.

"Why did they think a sleeper train would be better and more convenient than a direct flight?" he asked curiously.

She managed a chuckle, "I dunno, but I bet you didn't have to spring for your own cabin and not some tiny little booth seat."

He stopped, perching the glass at his lips and broke in to laughter. She couldn't help but to laugh too; it was infectious. He shook his head in disbelief and took a drink.

"That…" he said, setting it down, "is … inexcusable."

"I'll bill them when I get home," she replied. "So why are you going to a conference on sex crimes and the law? Trying to find some loop hole to help rapists get away with it?" she wondered.

Trevor Langan rolled his eyes. "I know you think I'm the bad guy, but I'm not. I'm just a man who appreciates the law."

"Sex crimes are not black and white and you know that and yet you still make the choice every day to get up and represents rapists – I don't see how you can deny that."

He wasn't really ready for her abrasive reception. He was poised though, ready for her anger and to a degree, it was justified.

"The law is pretty black and white, Olivia, it was written on white paper and dried in black ink," he replied smartly, trying to keep the conversation light, realizing quickly that it wasn't a game to her, she really wasn't his biggest fan, he thought with deflation.

"Don't be cute," she replied, "the law wasn't written with rape victims in mind – you think law makers give a shit about a girl found passed out behind a dumpster with her pants around her ankles?" she was loosely referring to the last case she had gotten personally invested in - the one where he defended the rapist - and won, leaving behind three victims, two still too scared to leave their homes in broad daylight and one dead, leaving a small child in her wake.

"I'm not a bad person, Olivia," he told her steadily and evenly. She stared back at him as if she were appraising him.

"Keep telling yourself that while I continue hearing disclosures day in and day out…" she shrugged before looking around, "isn't there a coven of demons you can join elsewhere? I kinda wanted to take my dinner in peace."

"Oh my goodness, Olivia Benson!" he laughed – the joy in his deep laughter irritated her. "You are cold!" It was a front though, if Trevor had ever let on just how responsible he felt for that young woman's life, he'd fall apart. Instead, he left that for private and was slowly trying to work through it.

"You know how when you're in school," she began thoughtfully, "and the people who stand back and watch the bully is pretty much just as bad as the bully himself?" she asked, glancing at him, crossing an arm as she sipped her wine.

He figured out exactly where she was headed with it. "Are you kidding me?" he asked, incredulous and offended at what she was getting at.

She gave a non-committal shrug. "I dunno, Trevor… you have a young daughter, what are you going to do if she comes to you and asks Daddy why he's defending a person that hurts little girls or boys just like her."

"If you must know," Trevor began with frustration, "I'm actually taking a job with the district attorneys office," he said, "Because, I can't defend criminals anymore."

Olivia was surprised. "Congratulations, you do have a soul."

"Wow, you're meaner than I thought, Benson…" he couldn't help but joke, but it was obvious that her comments had gotten to him and she knew it was time to cut it out. "After I even helped you get custody for Noah, I thought we respected one another."

She gave him a hard blink, it was hard, she didn't want to be cruel, she had heard through the grapevine he hadn't dealt with the news of his reoffending victim well. "You defended a serial rapist a month ago and I still have two of the victims on speed dial to make sure they don't off themselves from the trauma," she told him, breathing in deeply. "Fuck NYPD," she muttered with frustration.

"What?"

"For putting me on a train for the next 19 hours, stuck…" the whole situation was a little too real and if she was honest, Olivia felt a little claustrophobic.

"I'm trying to make right for what happened with that case, Olivia," he told her sincerely. "After he reoffended, I had to do some serious soul-searching and I realized that I have a child that I have to protect right up until she's an adult and then maybe even some…" he explained.

He did feel bad and everything she was saying had merit. No one had kicked his ass harder than himself after the jury came back. He had been disturbed by the defendant's ability to play the victim and immediately escalate when he walked. Within 48 hours, he'd raped and murdered another young mother.

It was too much for him; it wasn't just black and white anymore. Children seemed to color things and put soul in to many things that he was able to look at objectively in the past.

"I'm not a bad person," he said again, more for his own benefit.

Olivia seemed to give in, "I know you're not..." she relented.

He smiled briefly at the woman he had known for decades. He didn't know her well, but after standing in as her adoption attorney for Noah, he glimpsed a side of her that seemed to humanify her; her edges stripped away showing the bare bones of raw emotion and a heart of gold – a maternal center that was probably responsible for the years of accolades and accomplishments she had achieved.

And it didn't hurt that she was beautiful, too, he thought.

A lot of men would have been turned off by her, she was a strong, ambitious woman who was opinionated, dominant and was never shy of saying what was on her mind; but after working with her to gain custody of her child, he had seen the other side of her – the softer side that endeared him to her.

He finished off his drink and set the empty glass aside.

"That's kind of you, I guess. I can go and take my dinner to my room, I don't want to bother you, you clearly have your mind made up about me," he said, feeling a little bad, but not all that surprised. He got up and adjusted his suit jacket.

Even his ex-wife was barely speaking to him after how the case had turned out.

"No," she said quickly, "it's okay, sorry, I'm sure it's not my job to punish you for doing your job… I guess if you're trying to fix things, who am I to be an asshole about that?"

Trevor gave her a small smile, one that said thanks.

"Also, someone else worse might sit across from me and I couldn't handle that," she teased, letting a smile fall over her face.

He felt the tension fall from his shoulders as he sat back down. "You sure?" he asked, "cos there was a guy waiting for a table down the other end who smelled like urine and moth balls, I could swap with him?"

Olivia laughed, "just shut up before I change my mind…"


End file.
